Morning poems
/ page 168 of 310 /
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© Kenneth Fearing
But that dashing, dauntless, delphic, diehard, diabolic cracker likes his fiction turned with a certain elegance and wit; and that anti-anti-anti-slum-congestion clublady prefers romance;
Search through the mothballs, comb the lavender and lace;
Were her desires and struggles futile or did an innate fineness bring him at last to a prouder, richer peace in a world gone somehow mad?
The Waste Land
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
“My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
“Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
“What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
“I never know what you are thinking. Think.”
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers (124)
© Emily Dickinson
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers -
Untouched by Morning -
and untouched by noon -
Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection,
Rafter of Satin and Roof of Stone -
Bottom
© Arthur Rimbaud
Reality being too thorny for my great personality.
--I found myself nevertheless at my lady's,
I Travelled among Unknown Men
© André Breton
I travelled among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.
A Happy Childhood
© William Matthews
No one keeps a secret so well as a child
Victor Hugo
My mother stands at the screen door, laughing.
“Out out damn Spot,” she commands our silly dog.
I wonder what this means. I rise into adult air
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf XIII. -- The Building Of
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thorberg Skafting, master-builder,
In his ship-yard by the sea,
Whistling, said, "It would bewilder
Any man but Thorberg Skafting,
Any man but me!"
A Letter in October
© Ted Kooser
Dawn comes later and later now,
and I, who only a month ago
could sit with coffee every morning
watching the light walk down the hill
to the edge of the pond and place
a doe there, shyly drinking,
Aeneid, II, 692 - end
© Virgil
As he spoke we could hear, ever more loudly, the noise
Of the burning fires; the flood of flames was coming
from On the Pulse of Morning
© Jon Anderson
But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow,
I will give you no hiding place down here.
(Over the green and yellow...)
© Anselm Hollo
I
Over the green and yellow rice fields sweep the shadows of the autumn clouds, followed by the swift-chasing sun.
The bees forget to sip their honey; drunken with the light they foolishly hum and hover; and the ducks in the sandy riverbank clamour in joy for mere nothing.
The Recollect Church
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Quickly are crumbling the old gray walls,
Soon the last stone will be gone,
On Seeing the Elgin Marbles
© John Keats
My spirit is too weak—mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
Climbing Milestone Mountain, August 22, 1937
© Kenneth Rexroth
For a month now, wandering over the Sierras,
A poem had been gathering in my mind,
Youth and Age
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying,
Where Hope clung feeding, like a bee
Both were mine! Life went a-maying
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy,
When I was young!
Sonnet XXV
© George Santayana
As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
The Poet And The Children
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WITH a glory of winter sunshine
Over his locks of gray,
In the old historic mansion
He sat on his last birthday;
The Condemned
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AS in those lands of mighty mountain heights,
The streams, by sudden tempests overcharged,
Sweep down the slopes, hearing swift ruin with them,
So I and all my fortunes were engulf'd
